The wounded orc lies groaning in the bracken, and the woods answer with harsher cries from deeper among the trunks. The Stranger keeps his boot on the raider’s wrist, eyes fixed on the shadows beyond.
The Stranger
They know we are here now. If you mean to save the farms, we either hold this path or run with purpose.
A second shout cuts across the trees, then another. It is not far. The border feels thinner by the breath.
Boffo Hardbottle
We need Greenfields warned. If we stay, the farms may be left bare.
The Stranger
Then take the news south. I will keep these foul-footed pursuers busy, if I can.
He twists the captive’s arm just enough to silence him, then lifts his sword toward the dark line of the path. Around them, the woods tighten with approaching feet.
Boffo has his answer now, a race against the shouts. The orcs are not at the farms yet, but they are close enough to strike if no one warns the Shire in time.
✓ Quest Accepted
Warn Greenfields
“He runs like hell.”
SUCCESS (Good Agility, rolled -3)